Blood in the Sun
by WichitaRed
Summary: In all the banks and trains they robbed, they never shot anyone...could be because they had seen too much blood in the sun.


Blood in the Sun

by Wichita Red

Heyes' dark eyes tracked the dust motes that danced in the sunbeams beyond. Their tranquil dance in stark contrast to the chaos surrounding him. He kept watching them, hoping their steady rhythm would enable him to regain control. Yet, all he could feel was despair and fear rising up; the carnage of the train heist around him was stripping him of his sensibilities. Reluctantly, he turned his eyes to the train where atrocities that reeked of the ingredients of nightmares were being committed by Frank Rucker's gang. It seemed wherever he looked blood glistened ruby bright, moreover, in the late heat of the day, he felt he could smell the stench of death rising from the bodies.

A strangled cry ripped through his introspection bringing Heyes sharply back to the reality he was trying to avoid. A round-faced, clerkish looking passenger was running toward him, behind the man's spectacles, Heyes could see the signs of age showing at the corners of his eyes. Eyes that were shot so wide with fear they stood out dramatically in man's pale face. Running wildly toward Heyes, the man pleaded, "please, young man, please help me!"

Hearing his cousin above him on the slope, Heyes pulled his pistol The old Dragoon felt cold in his palm and its barrel wavered in his shaky hand as he looked, beyond the terror-stricken train-passenger, to the crazed face of Frank Rucker.

Grasping hold of the terrified man by his hair, Frank jerked him off the slope, black devil eyes pegged on Heyes. "You ain't pullin' that hogleg on me..." Frank's tone was relatively civil except for the cold under bite, "..is you, boy?"

In the tight, creaky voice that had been plaguing Jed, these past few weeks, he squawked, "Han, what's happening?"

Sweat tickled Heyes' scalp, running in thin streams down his face and neck and feeling gravel bounce against him, he knew Jed was barreling down the slope. He wanted to holler, 'get back..hide yourself...' anything that might send Jed away, but he had swallowed his voice as Frank's snake mean eyes bored into him.

Franks thick upper lick curled into a canine snarl and he drawled mockingly, "Well is you?"

Jed come to a halt behind him and Heyes' mouth clenched tight, 'I should get Jed out of here.' His eyes darted to the man, whose neck was bent back at an awkward angle with tears dripping from his soft cheeks.

Licking his lips, Heyes swallowed once then lifting his chin, said, "Let him go, Frank...ain't there already enough dead. I mean," he licked his lips again, "...the train is yours and all."

"Are you tellin' me how to run my show?" Frank grunted, raising his pistol so the muzzle rested behind his captive's ear. "I thought your only concern was keepin' that cousin of yours out of harms way."

Heyes could feel Jed's panting breaths on his neck and wondered if his body was fully blocking his cousin.

"Hannibal, you better mind your damn place if'n you know what is healthy for both of you." Frank hollered, shaking the man before him like a dog would a dead plaything. "All y'all need to be worryin' about is those horses, only reason I agreed to feed you fuckin' prairie rats was if you cared for them beasts and kept them steady during robberies."

Over Frank's voice Heyes heard the scrape of Jed's Colt leaving its holster. So, did Frank. The outlaw leader and his Remington roared out in unison. Fire belched from the seven inch barrel, blue-gray smoke filling the air and a wet warmth, spattered Heyes' face and he felt Jed drop away from him.

A gagging howl rose from Heyes' throat and despite wanting to run from what he might see, he slowly twisted his head to check on the only person, he cared about in the entire breadth of the world.

Jed was sitting in the dirt, roughly rubbing blood from his eyes and when he looked up, Heyes saw fear and anger in the bright blue eyes.

'He's alive, thank you, Lord...he's alive.' Heyes thought, "Am I shot? Is that my blood?" Looking to his own chest, he perceived the passenger was lying dead at his feet. The hair on the back of the man's head was smoldering from the close range of the shot that killed him.

Frank grinned and it reminded Heyes of a rabid wolf, "Didn't nick either of you lil' bastards? But, y'all keep in mind, I can snuff you out that easy, any damn time I please." He laughed loudly spittle flying from his mouth, "Now drag your fuckin' asses back up that grade and retrieve the horses, gang's near ready to ride out of here."

Ejecting his spent loads on the cooling corpse, Frank slammed fresh cartridges in before returning to the train.

Once he was sure Frank was gone, Heyes released his tensed muscles and turned to help Jed to his feet. But, Jed broke from him, his eyes shiny, "Han, we can't let them get away with this…that…" Jed yelped, gesturing recklessly with his Colt at what he could not put into words.

Heyes looked over his shoulder, by now, most of the Rucker gang had finished gathering valuables and it appeared Rickie Rucker and his pal, Jake were finished with the women they had drug off into the bushes. Bile and hate rose up in Heyes, both at himself and at these men who were committing such brutal acts all for their own pleasure. "You're right, Kid, we can't." Heyes answered, a shiver running through him as he watched Frank stoop to scalp one of the railway men. "But, we can't take 'em all on, they'll kill us for sure. Let's just do what we're told and get the horses."

Jed regarded his cousin for a moment and then waving the Colt about, hissed, "Han, I can't...I won't...they ain't no better than the men who came to our homes."

Settle down, "We ain't assisting them or even riding with them any longer. Jed, were new at this whole outlaw life, all I knew was they robbed trains..." Heyes shook his head, "...but I had no idea they were savages, this ain't a robbery." He glanced back, "I don't know what to label this as, but we're leaving. Only we're also taking all the horses with us and at the town expecting the train, we'll drop a note for the Sheriff letting him know why the trains late. That way a posse and hangman's noose can put an end to these monsters."

Jed nodded, "that I can do." Embarrassed and angry, that he had not believed in his cousin, Jed rubbed at his hot face, smearing the blood.

Heyes pulled off his bandana handing it to him, "Now, wipe your face and put that pistol away before you brain me with it."

3


End file.
